The Mirror
by LucindasEveningLight
Summary: A story about how several families come together once more to reflect upon what they have endured, find hope in one another, and eventually tear everyone else apart. Vengeance. Crime/Drama Strong coarse language. All human. AU Fanfic The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare. I own nothing but the plot of this fanfic. LucindasEveningLight


**Alright.**

 **So, this was originally an English paper I wrote after being given the prompt for 'writing a dialogue based on if I were in prison twenty years from now, talking to a partner/s during an allowed visit.'**

 **Obviously, alterations have been made and the characters are now from one of my favorite book series,**

 _ **The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare.**_

 _ **Disclaimer:**_

 _ **All characters from The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare.**_

 _ **The plot of this AU fanfic, however, belongs to moi.**_

 _ **It is based on an all human, alternate universe.**_

 _ **Shadowhunters and Downworlders are mentioned, but they are pertaining towards a more raw, criminal-esque, lifestyle.**_

 _ **In short, they refer to gangs, spies, and both the former and latter.**_

 _ **Jonathan is a good brother.**_

 _ **Valentine wasn't an entirely evil mastermind.**_

 _ **Enjoy.**_

 _ **~LucindasEveningLight**_

The Mirror

" _Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too._

 _ **They live inside us.**_ _And sometimes, they win."_

 _~Stephen King_

 _Prologue_

 _Beyond The Glass_

Dark ruby tresses remained tied up in a bun upon my head -so as to not obscure from my vision, and as a precautionary measure, lest any of the other women get any ideas.

My face was caked in beads of sweat and my pale arms, marred by numerous scars, hung limply by my sides as the guards unclasped the silver cuffs restraining me, and allowed for myself to sit in the chair adjacent to the clear glass wall, boxing me in like a rat trapped in a labyrinth.

"Jocey," I heard once I picked up the phone attached to its chrome twin, the wire brushing the expanse of my forearm, as I held the device up to my ear.

Through the transparent wall, were three of my dearest friends, whom I had grown up with, and had seen me at my best.

 _As well as what I had once thought was my worst._

Luke, his sister Amatis, and Maryse.

All of whom had all been there for my daughter and I after Valentine had been caught in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting.

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't miss him.

Our children had been the ones to bare witness to the attack, as Valentine and Luke had been taking the both of them to one of Jonathan's old Hockey games, while I had been stuck at home, working on the advertising campaign for _Lightwood & Son Law Firm, _the business of both Maryse's husband, Robert Lightwood and his late father, Andrew.

You see. Years ago, after putting the days of _The Circle_ behind us…

 _At least. I had thought that the past was no more_.

Valentine and I had begun our own advertising agency, _Morgenstern & Fairchild_.

We had both been partners. I was the concept artist, and he, the graphics engineer-for he could navigate all technology, such as computers with ease, but could not draw a single straight line.

Whereas, I could draw and paint most anything, and had even been offered several art scholarships for Tisch, but had declined, already having had a goal set for Valentine and I to build our own business from the ground up.

 _Plus, despite that I loved my husband dearly, I didn't entirely trust him to not revert back to our old ways, if I wasn't present._

After his father Roderick had passed away, Valentine had been the leader of The Circle -an illegitimate business and or _cult_ that had spawned from The Shadowhunters.

I, myself, had once been a member of _The Clave_ -a questionable organization that had also spawned from The Shadowhunters- and had been an enemy to the Morgenstern family.

Until my good friend Luke left The Clave to join The Circle, that is.

 _It was bad enough that I struggled with addictions, I wasn't about to have to gun down my own best friend in a back alley, just because we were on opposing sides of the battlefield._

 _So, I had done what anyone in my position would have._

 _I resigned from The Clave and joined The Circle._

Amatis soon followed after myself, not wanting to harm her own brother.

Little by little, others left The Clave to join The Circle, as well.

 _Maryse. Stephen. Celine. Michael. Hodge…_

The Morgenstern family was highly influential. Valentine, more so, than even his late father.

One of the packs affiliated with _The Praetor_ had taken Roderick out and Valentine's late mother Seraphina had died a year later, poisoned by a member of _The Four Courts_.

As could be expected, Valentine had soon dedicated his life, The Circle, to purge all of the _downworlders_ -lesser beings who committed illegal practices and were not affiliated with The Circle or The Clave- within New York.

I had wholly supported him with his decision, my parents, Adele and Granville, alike Maryse's, having been burned to death that same year by the hellish fire spread by _Lilith's Children_.

Everyone within The Circle and -even- The Clave hated the downworlders.

 _And I, Jocelyn Fairchild Morgenstern, was not an exception._

The Clave -whom both my parents had worked for- had, had a long history of dealings with downworlders. A history filled with both good and bad.

It was despicable.

The downworlders were truly beasts. Demons in human bodies. Filthy animals.

To think that those creatures were allowed to walk the Earth…

Why. It was enough to question the existence of a God.

 _Especially now_.

Lying. Perverted. Scumbags.

"Jocelyn."

A tap on the other line broke me from my thoughts. I sniffled.

Luke held the phone in his grasp, Amatis flanking both him and Maryse, worrying her lip.

Normally, Amatis was the more loquacious speaker of the trio.

But she was also the more optimistic one out of our quartet.

And after all that had gone down, there was simply no _good_ to speak of.

I sighed into the phone.

For a moment, we all just stared at one another. All of us having donned the same distraught visage.

My fists clenched instinctively as I relived why I was here in jail.

"I would do it again," I said vehemently, holding my arm where the crusted over blood from last evening resided.

I inhaled sharply.

" _ **That sick bastard deserved worse than death**_ ," I continued.

"He deserved to burn," Luke said, nodding in agreement. " _What he did-_ "

" **But. What proof is there ?,** " Maryse interjected.

Though I knew her words weren't meant to be unkind, they sent my blood aflame. I grit my teeth.

"Clarissa refuses to talk," she elaborated, as though we had misunderstood her.

Maryse, being the wife of a well seasoned lawyer, sometimes really got on one's nerves without meaning to.

" _ **That bastard defiled my daughter !**_ "

Sobs wracked throughout my body, my heart was caught in my throat, and I wasn't sure what was worse.

That the bastard had betrayed my trust or that I had allowed it by letting him in the home where Valentine and I had raised our beautiful baby girl.

As well as our dear son. Jonathan.

The apology that I owed _**him**_ …

I held my head in my hands.

Jonathan had been enrolled in the military academy last year, by suggestion of both the faculty members at his former school and the bastard no longer breathing.

But mostly I was to blame.

I hadn't wanted for him to turn out like his father, just as I hadn't wanted for Clarissa to become like myself. When I had indirectly caught wind of Jonathan's violent tendencies, thanks to Nicholas, I had been beside myself.

Worried that my own son, too, would get involved in downworld affairs, pertaining to gang activity.

Jonathan needed to be disciplined and with Valentine, no longer with us, I had listened to Nicholas informing me that Jonathan had pushed him down the stairs out of defiance.

 _What if there was another reason for why he pushed the filthy dog down the stairs, Jocelyn ?,_ the voice of my late husband invaded my mind.

 _What if that mongrel you let in our house did something to Clarissa and Jonathan was only trying to protect her from_ _ **it**_ _?_

The words coming from the mouth of Valentine's spector…

I had been thinking myself ever since I found out.

I was a horrible mother.

Believing the sleazy man from my boudoir as opposed to my own flesh and blood…

I angled my gaze back over towards my friends and directed a glare at Maryse.

" _ **Nick raped her,**_ " I spat venomously. " _ **And you know it, Maryse !**_ "

"Jocelyn," she sighed, her blue eyes pinioning me in place. "There is no proof. Clarissa is remaining silent. And now that he is dead, it isn't even your word against his."

I bit my lip, tasting blood.

All of what Maryse was saying…

It was true.

Clary had ceased speaking to me. She wouldn't talk to anyone.

She screamed if she so much as saw a man, and had flailed her arms, kicking and screaming while the policemen had taken me away, and tried asking her questions.

She doesn't deserve this.

She is only fifteen.

 _Just like I had been_.

Except for the fact that she had never had a sip of alcohol, snorted coke, or popped pills in all of her life.

Clary had never gone looking for trouble, not wanting to make the same mistakes as I.

She was a good girl.

Not like how I had been.

 _Valentine,_ I thought, tears stinging my eyes. _I failed our angel._

"All right. Wrap it up already," One of the guards said in a cold voice, as they approached me, cuffs in hand.

Hesitantly, I looked back at Maryse, Luke, and Amatis, with my misty emerald eyes, knowing what my fate was for having murdered another being.

The death penalty had been re-instated and I was not foolish enough to believe that I would be spared on a technicality.

 _I had killed Nicholas Sawyer._

 _Or as I now knew him, Nicholas_ _ **Scott.**_

 _Late heir to_ _ **The Praetor**_.

I had been the one to light the match while that bastard was tied up in our bed, sodden with lighter fluid.

He may have found and erased the security tapes I had set up, after seeing my baby's bruises, but it is I who had, had the last word.

And now I would pay the price.

"We'll get you out of here," Amatis cried. "Lucian can call his old lawyer."

" _Nick,_ " I spat the bastard's name with venom. "Killed her a long time ago."

"I'll find another," Luke said quickly.

"Maryse could call Robert at his apartment," Amatis persisted.

I shook my head. "It's no use."

The guards hoisted my body up, out of the chair, and coiled the cuffs back around my wrists, as I bit one of their hands with all the strength I had left.

"Please," I begged as I glanced at my friends one last time. "Bring my son home and-"

I could barely choke out the words.

" _ **Take care of my baby girl for me.**_ "

Their responses fell on lost ears, as the guards escorted me back to my cell and I shrieked in anguish.

" _It's all my fault !_ "

The cell door slammed shut once they removed my restraints, and I curled in on myself.

" _ **I should have known that I had been laying in the arms of the devil.**_ "


End file.
